


Ours, Not Mine

by MagiMevi



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: M/M, One-Shot, Puzzleshipping, Yugi thinks too much, angst-to-shameless-feelgood fic, pretty fluffy, so he goes to his soul-room to think even more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:59:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12418053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiMevi/pseuds/MagiMevi
Summary: The spirit found such ease and amusement in simply perusing Yugi's daily memories, and Yugi no longer wanted to justsharethem with him. He wanted tomakethem with him – he wanted thespiritto create new memories – he didn't want to just amuse the spirit with the passing fibres of his life – he just – hewanted-Don't worry about it, partner.





	Ours, Not Mine

**Author's Note:**

> [Flies by on a chopper] What's up buttercups I haven't written in about 10 years. But old puzzleshipping feelings happened and here we are. Shit. I'll never be free.

Yugi didn't retreat to his soul room often.

' _Retreat,_ ' Yugi thought, turning the word over in his head with a frown. He mulled it over – trying to rationalize the word while he idly flicked at a pencil on his desk. It rolled away with a soft clatter, and obediently rolled back a moment later. It didn't help him think. It didn't help him _not_ think, either.

He wasn't sure which one he was trying to achieve any more. So he resigned to slumping over the small desk, burying his tired head into folded arms. Moonlight crept through the skylight window, bouncing off the sheen of a plastic alarm clock which shone 11:54pm accusingly in his direction. It wasn't a school night, but Yugi was still long due some sleep. He was just deciding … _how_.

The word wasn't wrong, he realised after a moment of pondering. _Retreat –_ it was true he often found himself within the personally tailored room of his heart _(“It's like an apHEARTment” “Partner, please”),_ in times of peril or distress. Whether it was his own distress, or that of the other spirit sharing his heart, it didn't seem to matter. The heart called – the souls answered.

Well, one soul answered. The other simply … was trapped. In his own soul room. Forever. And ever.

Guilt crawled through the cracks of his mind, and Yugi's hand moved to grip the pencil. The crippling feeling was quick to reshape his thoughts into something self-doubting, something self-loathing, but -

Of course. As always.

A warmth, gentle but insistent, spread from a dark corner of his mind. It eased the guilt away without pause, and soothed over the ache it left in Yugi's mind – like the welcoming warmth of home after being trapped in the freezing rain. The comfort receded just as quickly, but did not disappear into the dark. It simply lingered in the back of his mind - a phantom presence, backed obediently onto the precipice of his thoughts.

When guilt combed through his mind, his other self wasn't far behind.

It wasn't often the spirit of the puzzle was so bold when it came to Yugi's thoughts. Or at least, he hadn't been before. Yugi remembered when he and the spirit shared nothing but a vague awareness of each other; existences walled off by uncertainty and a worrying dissociation. Yugi had been curious, but too cautious to pry.

It scared him at first. Small flashes of existence that he couldn't connect to, a light-headed sensation of being somewhere, but perhaps it was just a thought or a dream. Perhaps he wasn't really there at all. Not when more than once he'd been shook awake, and told something about “blacking out”. When things happened that shouldn't have been happening. When he was waking up in bed, wondering what day it was, wondering if his day at school was a dream. Wondering if he was even real.

Luckily, Jonouchi's answer to a teenage existential crisis came in the form of a free burger. And it was kind of enough to cheer Yugi up. Whatever ailed him didn't last forever, and Yugi became aware that it was probably the strain of his heart and mind building a brand new sanctuary for their second occupant. That certainly couldn't be an easy process – no wonder Yugi had been afraid.

Perhaps his Other Self had felt the same way, with those yawning chasms of darkness where memories and a past self should have been. Perhaps he had no idea what he was, let alone who. When his heart had settled, when the blackouts had eased … whatever had happened before, the spirit now left Yugi well enough alone.

 _For most of the part_ , Yugi thought with a small grin, finally pushing away from his desk.

Yugi remembered the foreign brush against the back of his mind, when their connection was still void of thought and emotion. Usually when Yugi was on the brink of sleep, with his mind unguarded and pliant. It was as if the spirit was gently tugging at the frayed edges of his conscious; a touch so curious and so careful. Like the spirit was trying to leave everything exactly how he'd found it - afraid he might pull something akin to a seam, and Yugi's entire mind would unravel violently before him.

 _Maybe the spirit had been curious_ , Yugi thought as he wriggled tiredly into his pyjamas. _Maybe he was just lonely and wanted something other than his own lack of identity to think about._

The puzzle's occupant had never delved too deep. He remained on the edge of Yugi's mind, out of the way, and busied himself with the thoughts that bubbled within reach. Yugi realised very quickly that these thoughts were simply mundane glimpses of the day gone by, but the spirit never seemed deterred.

His grandfather sweeping away leaves outside the shop, waving goodbye as he left for school.

Jonouchi and himself both laughing in dread as they crammed in last-minute homework.

 _Almost_ falling asleep and sliding off his chair in chemistry, saved only by Anzu pulling him up by the back of his collar.

All of them at a fast-food joint, trying to encourage a squirming Honda about the particular waitress he was keen on.

The relief and warmth of returning home.

The taste of hot chocolate.

Hugging his grandfather goodnight.

All of them, the entity of the puzzle took his time with; turning them over, inspecting them carefully, holding onto some longer than others. Yugi had felt the faint ebb of a response from the spirit as he perused the edges of his thoughts. It was warm and attentive when observing Yugi's family and friends. It was almost endearingly curious when it came to memories of his mother and grandfather cooking, or eating out with his friends. Almost as if the spirit could taste it too, if he handled the memory the right way.

But it was startlingly clear when the spirit was displeased. A former gang-mate or bully getting rough with them. A car veering too close to the curb after a rainfall and spraying their group with puddle water, with Jonouchi screaming obscenities after the vehicle, and Anzu crestfallen at her ruined uniform. Being scolded by particularly strict teachers. Being scolded by particularly rude passer-byers. His kindness being taken advantage of.

The gentle ebb and flow of emotions became an angry storm in the quiet of his mind. The memories were pulled so taut to the surface of his conscience. Perhaps because the spirit was handling them with such rigid frustration, as if cracking them in his grip would erase them entirely.

Maybe the spirit understood. Maybe he didn't. Maybe to him, it was simply an ugly mar that he wanted to destroy, for no other reason than it was an affront to his otherwise peaceful tour of Yugi's mind.

Whatever the response was to Yugi's daily antics, Yugi was content to let the spirit's curious prying continue. It was initially quite distressing to learn there may be a disembodied spirit living in his puzzle – because gosh, what an exhaustingly dull, dark, dormant existence that must have been for thousands of years. If Yugi could ease the mind-numbing loneliness with simple memories of eating pizza with his friends or hugging his grandpa, then he wasn't about to shut the spirit out.

 _But that was then,_ Yugi thought, opting to _fwump_ face down onto his bed with a yawn. _This was now._

Now they shared much more. When they weren't sharing control of Yugi's body, they shared thoughts. Emotions. It was almost like second nature. Yugi kept nothing from the spirit, and whatever meagre vestiges of memories his other self could muster, he offered to Yugi in turn.

Yugi had promised him, after all. After he had almost lost the puzzle in that terrible blaze, he had promised the spirit all of his memories. No more glancing at Yugi's mind from a distance, no more toying with the mere strands of the boy's thoughts. Yugi's almost wanted to shove them all at the spirit, blotting out the dark stretches of nothingness that plagued his Other Self. To fill those gaping maws of non-existence with the mundane memories the spirit seemed to find such delight in watching. He remembered crying when he told the spirit his promise.

Had Yugi felt guilty? Was he sad? The thought of being holed up in the confusing labyrinth that was his Other Self's soul room. The thought of the spirit unable to do anything but mull over his lack of _everything_. The thought of his only respite coming from the times when Yugi needed him, or when he was curious enough to brush his fingers against the edges of the boy's mind.

Yugi's heart ached, and that's when it had started. A warmth reaching out from where the spirit lay dormant beside his soul, brushing these thoughts away for him. Like a … spiritual pat on the head. Kind of.

Their emotions had bled into each other's so often now, and Yugi could read the warmth clearly.

 _Don't worry about it, partner_.

Sometimes Yugi pushed back. _How can I not?_

But the spirit wanted this burden for himself. _Because it's not your fault_.

Yugi kicked at his duvet until it _felt_ like it was covering him properly, and pulled the puzzle closer from where it lay beside his pillow. It didn't matter if it was or _wasn't_ Yugi's fault – he just wanted to offer the spirit so much more than what he had. The puzzle had granted his own wish, and Yugi just wanted to …

Return the favour?

… Somehow?

The spirit found such ease and amusement in simply perusing Yugi's daily memories, and Yugi no longer wanted to just _share_ them with him. He wanted to _make_ them with him – he wanted the _spirit_ to create new memories – he didn't want to just amuse the spirit with the passing fibres of his life – he just – he _wanted_ -

 _Don't worry about it, partner_.

He wanted the spirit to live.

_Your life isn't mine to live._

But it was his to _share_ , wasn't it?

Yugi struggled to explain it, time and time again when his Other Self brushed those thoughts away with his demanding presence. But sometimes it wasn't enough. Sometimes the frustration – the _pain_ – struck so deep, burst so violently in his chest. Like a parasite that made him feel sick with such guilt, such pity, Yugi almost wanted to rip open his own ribcage and pry the thing out of his chest with his fingers.

Yugi wrapped a hand around the puzzle and tucked it beneath his chin.

He decided how to sleep tonight.

 

\----

 

Uncertainty spiked though Yugi - an icy caress down his spine. It made his hair stand on end.

Although it came and went in a single breath as he relaxed himself. He truly never came to the room of his soul unless there was something wrong, and his nerves seemed pre-disposed to bristle on entry. He never seemed to hang around in his own room for too long, either. Most times he could recall being here, he headed straight to his Other Self's side.

Yugi looked over his shoulder. His door was open as always, spilling light into the misty hallway. The icy fog wove across the floor in thick, curling clouds that twisted around the edges of his doorway - but never passed into his room. Through the mist, a strip of light illuminated the other occupant's door. So dark and dingy compared to his own, Yugi thought with a grimace. Cracks splintered the stone around the door like some dreadful spider web. Age had worn it down, chipped away at it's shape, and it looked so heavy and cold compared to Yugi's side.

Yugi turned back to the warmth of his own room. Aaaand of course, toys everywhere. Yugi thought of himself as someone so comfortably _simple_ \- he couldn't understand how the ancient spirit found such joy in thumbing through his thoughts.

With a small smile, Yugi bent to retrieve an old tamagotchi from the floor. It was old and a little battered, probably from where it lay beneath the weight of all the other gaming fads that had spread through the school like wildfire. They all lived in a box in Yugi's closet, tidied but not forgotten. It made sense that these things were spread so haphazardly around his soul room – his heart kept the memories of them closer than anything.

It was funny, Yugi thought. When lives weren't on the line and there was no duty to fulfil, his friends still managed to find joy in the newest gadgets lining the shelves, or a simple trip to Burger World – as if their very existences hadn't been threatened a week prior.

Perhaps that was what the spirit was like. Perhaps his existence before this had been such a chaotic roil of confusion and distress, a paralysing agony of the unknown … to a point where he found simple joy in watching Otogi try to explain Dungeon Dice Monsters to Jonouchi. For the fifth time.

But aside from that, Yugi and his friends had the opportunity to slow down and breathe. Anzu had all of them wrapped around her fingers – dragging them to the sea front to remember how refreshing the ocean air was. Convincing them the eat lunch on the school roof, watching the sky and enjoying the sun. Even somehow getting them all to walk home in the rain, just to enjoy the feeling of it. At first Yugi didn't quite understand … but in a silly kind of way, it was nice. In the wake of dangerous Dark Games, it grounded him. It relaxed him.

“ _Hey Yugi, does the Other Yugi like rain too?”_

… The spirit didn't get to enjoy those feelings.

Yugi glanced around at the other toys littering his floor. As nice as the thought was that the mess reflected his affection … it was still a mess. And there were new things here since the last time – there always was. New toys. New gadgets. New books. Still no _How To Happily Co-exist With The Ancient Spirit In Your Heart 101_.

Yugi sunk his bare foot experimentally into a rather large, brightly coloured bean bag. These were new. Jonouchi had purchased a set of three to replace some ageing furniture in his apartment, citing _“chairs are for dweebs”._ It was no surprise they were here, too; Yugi vividly recalled Jonouchi throwing one at an already seated Honda to create a Honda-sandwich, as he called it. Yugi had almost choked laughing.

Pillows were scattered around the edges of the room, likely from Yugi's initial thought of the room being cold when he first visited. There was also the set of Scapegoat stuffed toys that Anzu had bought for him and Jonouchi recently. Yugi liked the idea that his soul room shifted and warped to accommodate new memories and emotions, making it a much more comforting place to be.

And then furrowed his brow when he thought of the room on the other side of the hallway.

Yugi sunk to the floor, slowly plucking a scapegoat toy from the stone floor. The pink toy was soft and pillowy, and when the memory of receiving it filled him – _and only him_ – with a gentle swell of warmth, all Yugi really wanted to do right now was bury his face into it and scream out this frustration.

“Partner ...?”

Yugi jerked up, blinking as golden bangs swung across his vision. Carefully, he leaned back and craned his neck to spot his Other Self, stepping out of his own room to inspect the unannounced visitor. He looked as he always did – stoic, not a trace of fatigue on his face, and dressed far too sharply in contrast to Yugi's pale blue pyjamas. He didn't sleep – _of course_ he didn't sleep – not when it was impossible and he had so much of _gaping nothingness_ to catch up on in solitude. Yugi tried to brush away the bitter thought.

And why did Yugi consider himself a _visitor_ in his own heart?

Regardless, Yugi managed small smile, holding up a hand in a beckoning wave. “Yeah, I'm here – come on in.”

The spirit's sharper features seemed to harden at the suggestion, as if Yugi was asking him to trespass upon sacred ground. Sacred ground littered with stuffed animals and plastic toys, he thought with a huff of laughter. Even when the spirit slipped inside, careful not to _touch_ anything that wasn't his, those features only seemed to slip between worried and mildly alarmed.

Of course. Yugi never showed up here for no reason.

“Is something wrong?” the spirit pressed, his lips already worried into a thin line. His tone earnestly suggested that Yugi was about to inform him that a brand new squad of goons out for their puzzle and/or lives were roaming the streets for them at this very moment. It wouldn't surprise the spirit. Yugi could already sense him bristling at the thought.

All at once, Yugi felt awkward. Out of place. He tried to smother the thought. “No, nothing like that.”

His thumbs sunk idly into the scapegoat's fluffy cheeks. “I just wanted to visit.”

The explanation felt silly, empty, so on he went. “I mean, this _is_ my heart … or at least, a spiritual manifestation of it? I think? A-anyway, it changes itself, so ...”

He pulled gently at the scapegoat's horns. “I don't see why I shouldn't drop in every now and then. Y'know?”

Whether the spirit “y'know'd” or not, he paused. Over the course of their time together, especially now with the spirit now so intertwined with his own feelings, there was little Yugi could hide from his Other Self. Even if he wanted to. Joy, sadness, and everything in-between swelled back and forth between them, like puddles of oil bleeding into each other in flourishes of colour. Their relationship was both surprisingly distant and intimate at the same time.

It was far too obvious that Yugi's words fell startlingly short of what he _wanted_ to say.

But forever cautious, the spirit didn't pry Yugi's thoughts for answers.

Even when Yugi offered him all of his memories, the spirit never pried.

Before Yugi could let his frustration fester to the surface, the spirit offered the barest hint of a smile. He finally seemed to relax now the notion of urgency had passed, leaning against the door frame with an exhale. “I'm afraid our soul rooms aren't nearly as interesting as the world outside them. Certainly not enough to check on.”

 _Exactly,_ Yugi thought accusingly. The urge to drag the spirit into his body and let him _live_ was enough to make Yugi's hands twitch. As if he could just reach out, grab him and … make him go for a nice stroll. Or something. _Anything_. The spirit's desire to watch Yugi's life play out felt like such violent disharmony to the spirit's same reluctance to be a _part_ of that life. Acting as a martyr to an obscure cause.

“But there _is_ something on your mind,” the spirit said firmly, sidestepping around a few scattered toys to approach his partner. Yugi felt heat creep up the back of his neck, threatening to reach his cheeks. He suddenly wanted to tidy the mess. He wanted to keep this place as open and inviting as possible – a sanctuary not just for him, but for the spirit should he ever need it. Or _want_ it.

Before Yugi could make a move to start shoving stuff into the corners of his soul room, he spared the spirit a quick glance. He didn't look perturbed by the mess as he moved through the room. Instead Yugi watched crimson eyes flick over to the discarded tamagotchi, and a few other nearby toys and electronics Yugi had shared with his friends. He felt a ripple of fondness from the spirit. Of course … he had been there, drifting along the edges of Yugi's mind – quiet, observant … distant. All of those times, he was there.

But he wasn't.

Yugi stopped, shaking his head at the thought. The spirit peered at him searchingly, but Yugi just struggled to his feet, enough to collapse back into one of Jonouchi's bean bags. The seat let out a satisfying _whuff_ when Yugi sunk into it, letting it swallow him into a world of comfort and polystyrene beans. He didn't have to reach far to pat the other bag adjacent to his own.

“I'll tell you if you sit.” Ah yes, coercion of the highest degree.

With a soft snort, the spirit obliged and lowered himself to his partner's side. Likely sinking deeper into the cushiony seat than he expected to, his Other Self visibly tensed. Like a cat startled by some stray water. Regardless, he sat with one leg swung over the other as usual, startlingly regal in contrast to the choice of seating.

“They're Jonouchi's,” Yugi explained, a giggle building in his throat while the spirit tried to situate himself. “Apparently chairs are for dweebs.”

The spirit folded his arms, finally comfortable, and a playful smirk twisted its way onto his face. “I don't believe I got that memo, but I'm sure I can make do. But … it isn't often you come here, partner.”

Yugi let his head thud back against the bean bag. The spirit was always patient, and let Yugi choose his words for a long while. It was kind of nice, just sitting with his Other Self in a place where they could both maintain a physical form. Or at least, as physical as you could get in the manifestation of your own heart. If only it could have been like this _outside_.

Yugi felt a stab of sorrow in his gut, one so strong is must have churned against the synthesis of their mind. The spirit leaned forward an inch or two to inspect his partner's face. “Yugi?”

The teen cringed. Having the spirit use his name always felt something akin to be addressed formally by an angry parent, or a teacher about to inflict punishment. A jarring demand of his full attention.

With the spirit, it was still pull of attention. But one just to remind him that his Other Self was there. Nearby and ready, if Yugi needed him. _I am such a sap_ , Yugi groaned inwardly as the thought made his face warm. _But it's what I do best_.

“I was thinking about cooking something special for grandpa,” Yugi told the spirit finally, gaze dropping to his hands. His fingertips teased against each other in an anxious gesture. The spirit looked relieved, and perhaps a little amused.

“Oh? You were worrying about … cooking?” his Other Self implored, unable to keep a grin from pulling at the corners of his mouth. “I assumed you were good at that.”

Yugi shrugged into the folds of the bean bag. “I'm good at simple stuff. Instant stuff. Yeah, mostly instant stuff. I'm _really_ good at ordering food.”

“Then I assume you wanted to make something more ...”  
  
“... Meaningful,” Yugi finished for him. The spirit nodded as he leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand.

“Any ideas?”

Yugi thought back. He had actually wanted to do something nice for his grandpa ever since the events concerning Pegasus … but Yugi didn't know _what_. He'd asked his friends, but their responses had been too … impersonal. They didn't really know his grandpa's tastes. After some thought, a stroke of genius had hit him, and Yugi had found an answer.

“I've been emailing Rebecca Hopkins,” Yugi told the spirit, rolling onto his side to face him. “Her grandpa and mine worked together in Egypt. Remember?”

The spirit nodded, eyes drifting with a wry smile. “She was, ah … an interesting duellist. Yes, I remember.”

Yugi drew vacant patterns into the cotton of the bean bag as he spoke. “Well she said she'd ask Professor Hopkins for me, and … he sent me an old recipe of some snack they used to eat over there.” Yugi paused for thought. “It's some … falafel-type … thing. I'm not sure. But he said it was easy to make. I told him I wasn't great at cooking.”

Yugi checked his Other Self's expression, and relaxed once more. The spirit was so content to just listen to him ramble. When Yugi paused for breath, the spirit raised an eyebrow, lips curving into one of those challenging smiles.

“Then perhaps it's an opportunity to brush up. Perhaps you'll turn out as skilled a chef as you are a duellist.”

Yugi giggled. “Yeah, I'm glad I'll have cooking to fall back on if the whole King of Games thing goes under.”

“But it would be very interesting,” the spirit continued, crimson eyes bright with humorous thoughts. A teasing tone laced his words. “Perhaps Kaiba would pack up his duel disk and continue to fight you in the field of cuisine.”

“Are you implying Kaiba cares more about getting even with me than Duel Monsters?” Yugi asked, his breath stuttering as he barely contained the fit of laughter in his chest. The spirit's smile turned crooked, trying not to look too pleased with himself. Was he biting his cheek to stop laughing too?

“He certainly fits the bill, don't you think? I believe he is forever stuck to your shoe, partner.” The spirit coughed discreetly, likely to dislodge any more laughter that threatened to bubble up. “But I believe you would still be superior. The joy of cooking comes from sharing, and Kaiba is ...”

The spirit simply made an uncertain hand gesture. Even in the confines of their heart, he was too polite to finish that sentence. Yugi snorted softly.

“Yeah, Kaiba is … yeah. But I thought it would be nice to cook something for grandpa. What do you think?”

The spirit was often sought for his advice, but he seemed a little taken aback at this one. “I think he would appreciate it, partner. You obviously put a lot of thought into this.”

Yugi curled hands into the material of his seat. His head felt light with tension. “So … you agree."

“What?”

“That cooking would be a nice thing to do.”

His Other Self paused, cocking his head to inspect the teen. A thread of worry pulled against their flow of thoughts. “Yes. Are you alright?”

Yugi didn't answer. He … didn't actually think he'd get this far. He'd had a _vague_ idea of what to say if he succeeded – several, in fact. But now all those thoughts were floating away, and Yugi didn't know which one to grab for. None of them seemed appropriate any more.

It was nice just to … _talk_ to him. With no danger or strategizing to dominate their conversations, the spirit was much more open and at ease. He was an attentive listener. He loved to offer advice. He was _funny_ , in a dry and spontaneous way that was so unlike anyone Yugi had met before. Yugi adored him, and he just wanted to grab the spirit and present him to his family and friends so they could appreciate him just as much as Yugi did. But he couldn't. When he wasn't duelling, all the spirit let himself do was _sit there_ and _watch_ the world go by.

And it _killed_ Yugi.

A light touch on his jaw brought him back to the present. “Partner.”

“You do it,” Yugi blurted out, before the spirit even had time to remove his hand from Yugi's face. It lingered for a moment, the contact light. _Okay Yugi, use proper words_ , he told himself. “You … the falafel-thing. I want you to -”

Yugi just slapped a palm to his own face to halt the babble. Smooth. He heard the spirit sit back and allow Yugi space to think. Or at least remember how basic language worked.

“... _I_ don't want to cook,” Yugi insisted quietly, allowing his thoughts to settle. “I want _you_ to cook.”

The spirit's bangs swayed softly as he tilted his head toward Yugi, brow furrowed in confusion. Yugi could see the gears working behind the deep ruby of his eyes. “Partner?”

Yugi's expression twisted as he clawed through his vocabulary for something more sophisticated. It was laughably domestic to expect this of an ancient Egyptian spirit (perhaps a Pharaoh no less). A shadow of someone who was once solid form and warmth, someone who had long left that life behind millennia ago.

And Yugi had just asked him to cook for his grandpa.

“I want … to … watch you cook,” Yugi said slowly, eyes downcast while he tried to focus on anything but his Other Self's intense stare. “Or … I want to teach you to cook? I don't-”

Yugi paused, and the silence was deafening. It made heat creep into his cheeks.

“I think you'll enjoy it,” Yugi settled on, rolling onto his back. He folded his arms over his stomach, and tried to punctuate his decision with a resolute nod. “I want you to enjoy it.”

The spirit still didn't answer. Finally, Yugi caught his gaze for something that might betray what was happening in his mind. All Yugi could _feel_ from him was … well, not a lot. Confusion. Reluctance. Fear? A fear of _intruding_ -

Yugi felt braver. “I want you to enjoy stuff.”

“Partner-”

“- With me.”

And in an instant, every signal Yugi could pick up from the spirit ground to a halt. His Other Self looked as if he were trying to jump-start his thoughts to accommodate those two magic words. It made “ _don't worry about it”_ pause in his throat. Yugi could sense it coming, and was relieved when silence was the only answer for now.

“Don't think about it,” Yugi pleaded, reaching out to wrap a hand around the spirit's forearm. As if he might just vanish into smoke, melting into the cracks of the wall. “Just … do this one thing with me?”

The spirit's gaze slid to Yugi's hand, confusion still etched into his soul. Those two words again. Yugi's fingers tightened into the material of his sleeve. _Just say it_ , came from an exhausted part of himself.

“And don't … don't tell me not to worry about it like you _always_ do,” Yugi told the spirit, sorely tempted to hide his face in the cotton of the bean bag. That _did_ sound a little accusing - it made the man beside him blink in surprise, if anything. All too suddenly, Yugi felt his throat threaten to close up, and a familiar prickle behind his eyes. He snapped them shut. _Wow what amazing timing_.

It must have spilled through their connection, because even as Yugi lowered his head and stared at his lap – as if that would make this _easier_ – he felt fingers brush against the back of his hand. They rested there gently, not too insistent. Skirting around the edge of comfort. It was _just like_ him.

“I don't know how long you're here for,” Yugi breathed out in one quick gasp. If he spoke too much, he was definitely about to choke on a sob. _Please don't make this awkward, me_. “And I said before that I want it to be forever, but it's probably –“

The spirit's fingers slotted comfortably between Yugi's knuckles, quiet and reassuring. Yugi sucked in a deep breath. Being able to feel his Other Self's touch was still very surreal. Perhaps because it just felt so … fitting. So normal.

“... It's probably not forever,” Yugi admitted quietly, the quiver evident in his voice. “And – I've got my whole life to enjoy stuff. And until then, I just - I want to enjoy stuff with you.”

Yugi swallowed thickly. “I want to share more with you than just my own memories. And I know you want that too. And if you say no, then I'll just have to _make_ our time together forever until you say yes.”

… The spirit didn't say _anything_ for a long time.

Yugi's own emotions were wrapped so taut around each other. Stretched so thin to avoid spilling over, desperate to _keep it together._ He couldn't even _try_ to reach out for his Other Self's own feelings to gauge his answer. But Yugi could sense them there. A quiet flutter, so mild and guarded while the spirit felt around for … hopefully what he wanted. What he _really_ wanted.

Gingerly, Yugi slid his hands away from the spirits arm. He scrubbed his eyes free of that threatening sting, taking in a few careful and uneven breaths while he let the other think. This could have gone better, Yugi decided sourly. Usually people praised him on his way with words, his positive spins. It was nothing special, he thought. Yugi always spoke from the heart – it was just a little tricky when it felt like it was being crushed in his chest.

“I'm … supposed to be good at this stuff,” Yugi laughed quietly after a moment, dropping his hands to his lap with a sniff. It was a feeble attempt to ease the seriousness of his words, but his voice was still strained. His fingers still trembled. “... At least I have duelling going for me, right?”

“I think you made your point rather clear, partner,” the spirit chuckled, quick to respond once Yugi questioned himself. Long fingers brushed the golden bangs away from Yugi's eyes, stilling there for only a moment before the hand drifted to his shoulder. The spirit's smile was soothing against the twitching embers of Yugi's spent emotions. For a split second, Yugi wondered what he'd done to deserve a soul mate. “I wouldn't worry.”

Yugi met his eyes, and offered his Other Self a watery smile.

“Is … that an answer …?”

 

\----

 

It had been a long day of reading a recipe to his Other Self, switching bodies for taste-testing, and finally announcing to his surprised and excited grandpa that the spirit of the puzzle had made them dinner. “That's something I never thought I'd live to hear,” he had said happily. “It's about time that boy had some fun.”

Yugi could already feel the anxious ebb from the soul beside his own.

It took no time at all for his grandpa to praise the spirit's own handiwork with a wide smile, honestly surprised and pleased. Yugi didn't think he had ever felt such a warmth flood the link they shared before. The teen welcomed every ounce of startled pride that bled into his own thoughts and feelings, so overbearing and eclipsing and _everything_ Yugi had wanted. A memory to be the spirit's own to keep.

 _Our memory_ , the spirit corrected him quietly, still brimming with warmth. Yugi ran his fingers fondly against the edges of the puzzle.

The first of many memories to follow.

_Yeah. Ours._


End file.
